


Lad, Don't You Weep

by TeaAndPaint



Series: Yet, that Cold Figure Stands Before Me [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Byleth has it rough too, Claude is absolutely right when he says it's the worst reunion ever, Gen, Millenium Festival, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaAndPaint/pseuds/TeaAndPaint
Summary: In a freak stroke of luck, the students from every house meet at the monastery on the day of the Millennium Festival.War has hardened them, Dimitri even more so.The person he holds by the neck is not his Professor Byleth.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, My Unit | Byleth & Everyone
Series: Yet, that Cold Figure Stands Before Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608184
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	Lad, Don't You Weep

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, I've slightly tweaked Byleth's canonical age.

Dimitri doesn't know what to think. Professor Byleth is _tiny._ Shorter than him by a good thirteen centimeters. Dimitri doesn't remember having to look down _that_ much to meet his professor's eyes. Professor seemed untouchable back then but still approachable. This man couldn't have been his teacher.

His teacher was strong, adaptable, a godlike figure. A prodigy versed in all manners of combat. No battle was lost under his direction and no training was left wasted. He would smile, sometimes, with his eyes. Or there would be a flattening of his eyebrows. Or a slight opening of his mouth. His pale face, although impassive, was still readable.

This one isn't. Even within his colorful classmates, he has never seen such a shade of emerald green as the eyes of another person...or whatever Professor is. Dimitri can't presume after all, he lost his humanity on that day five years ago. When he lost, or rather, _threw away_ his humanity, his appreciation of appearances disappeared with it. Dimitri can still pick up minute changes of expression even with his one good eye. Knowing your enemy intimately down to the expression was a skill he had held close to his chest the day Professor disappeared. But he can't read Professor's expression even as he stands by the man himself.

Professor had paid no heed to his approach even with his trusted Areadbhar gripped tightly in his hands. That doesn't stop Dimitri from harshly setting down its shaft on the ground. The wind unsettles the now-mint green hair that frames Professor's face. Those fathomless eyes slide to meet his single eye and hold his gaze steadily. The lashes are still long and his eyes are still deep. But Dimitri can't read his Professor like before. 

Gods below, was he ever able to read his Professor's face? Was the time all a joke? While Fódlan was ravished from the inside-out, Professor had disappeared. The only reason that they were able to meet now is because all of them had remembered their promise they had made when they were children. Foolishly enough, all three houses had met on the agreed date, at the agreed location. The only thing that had stopped them from engaging in combat was Professor. 

Byleth.

With just a few steps, Byleth had conquered all of their armies. No one had uttered so much as a gasp. 

Seeing his Professor unscathed by the war had lifted his heart. But the fact that Professor was unscathed led to sharp, hot anger that called for Dimitri's strength. For Professor's body to drop to the floor like the children that were regarded as nothing more than collateral damage. 

For perhaps the first time in his life, one that he could actually recall, he wants the death of Byleth Eisner. He grabs Byleth by the neck, Areadbhar held directly in front of his face.

Never has threatening a person with death seemed more bittersweet to him. He can hear the others readying their weapons in defense of their former teacher. He snorts. 

Fools. As if they will react fast enough to even think about saving this piece of scum.

Byleth does nothing but grip his hand. Even through his gloves, he can feel the deathly cold hand of the man he wants to kill. 

"Dimitri." Byleth doesn't even bat an eye. He didn't make a cry when Dimitri grabbed him either. 

"You have grown."

His words spike another wave of anger that courses through his veins. 

"And you haven't?" He growls, not waiting for an answer. Areadbhar seems to pulse with the power of his Crest. He'll not spare Byleth any longer.

If he wants to live, he would have resisted by now. Let him fall by Dimitri's hands rather than collateral. The gods know, that she, that woman, would have used him like she had used Dimitri.

That emerald gaze won't stop staring at him. Once upon a time, his teacher was looking at him with eyes of a soft blue with tints of purple. Those eyes had changed their shade with the light. Whenever Dimitri needed just one more step in deducing an answer in class, those eyes had softened. Encouraged him. They had never faltered in believing that he would come upon the correct answer.

So why is this man, who should be dead, looking at him with that same expression? 

He sucks in a breath as Dimitri's hand tightens. Someone yells, "Don't hurt him!" as the metal neck guard creaks under the force. 

"If anyone so much as _touches_ their weapon, I'll stab him through. It won't be fatal, but it _will_ be painful." He doesn't turn his face away from Byleth's. Those eyes are urging him to think when he doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to think of the years before. His eye stings from betrayal and so does his heart. His head hurts.

Byleth's other hand is extended in a gesture to hold. To not interfere. The coward must fear for his life.

That feels wrong.

_"You're getting closer, Dimitri. What weaknesses does the enemy have?"_

_"A thinner neck, sir, which shows that the enemy is undernourished. Undernourishment also means muscle weakening and a thin frame.Their body will most likely be unable to retain heat."_

_"Correct. Which means?"_

_"The enemy has not been at their peak for a long time. At this time, you are not fighting a soldier. You are fighting a victim."_

_The professor's usual unaffected face broke out in a pleased expression._

_"Well done. Remember that when it becomes difficult to distinguish between enemy and fellow human."_

He loosens his hold on Byleth's neck just as Byleth's hand tightens with an unknown urgency. His hand did not meet skin when they squeezed. They had met empty air between the guard and his neck. Byleth's height is unchanged. The grip on his hand is familiar but does not hold a candle to the strength he knows Byleth has. The hand is shaking though.

That hand never shook so much when they had brawled. When they brawled, Dimitri was using more force than this.

He comes to a realization. That weak excuse for a tight grip, that thin neck, the lack of fullness at his arms. This isn't the Byleth who is stepping into his prime.

"Teach, why? How?"

It seems like Claude is revealing his hand. Dimitri thought Claude was being too quiet. 

Claude approaches with both of his palms open in the air. He forces a smile as he looks over Byleth's current state, who is still being held by Dimitri's iron-fisted grasp.

Byleth inclines his head as best as he can. His chin falls on Dimitri's hand. It's cold. 

"Hey Teach. I haven't seen that roundness of face in years. You look as young as you were, when you still taught us. No wrinkles or noticeable gray hairs at all! Give a guy a clue on how to look so unchanged, won't you?"

There is an amused but strangely dejected huff of air that falls from Byleth's mouth. His eyebrows flatten the way they did five years ago. 

"Say, Professor, how old are you now? I'm twenty-three, yet even I don't look that young. And Lysithea—she's twenty! You look the same age as her!"

His mouth parts the way they did five years ago, to show his amusement. 

"Teaaaaaaach. Come on, don't leave me hanging." Claude still has his sense of humor from five years before. 

Those eyes smile as they did before. 

Dimitri throws Byleth down on reflex. His body seems to bounce in armor that is too big to fit his frame. There are dents in the neck guard. 

A few people move to pull Byleth farther away from him. Some try to restrain him. 

Against Claude's straining to hold him back, he tries to rush to Byleth with Areadbhar. 

"Why?! Why is it you? Byleth! Answer me! Gods blast it, Eisner, why?!"

He doesn't get up. He covers his eyes with his arm.

Surely someone else has realized it too. Claude's mouth is set in a line. That woman still says nothing but her grip on her ax is as tight as she can make it.

_"How old are you?! Say it or I'll force it out of you!"_

A quiet inhale makes him tense. A shudder ripples across Byleth's fallen form.

"I'm nineteen."

As Dimitri flings Claude off and dodges a spell from Lysithea, Byleth shudders harder. Dimitri knocks his classmates out of the way and raises his spear over Byleth's prone form.

_It's not that Professor has completely weakened, it's that he is a child. I'm twenty-three. I've had five more years to hone my body. This child's body hasn't so much as touched a weapon in the last five years._

Byleth is laughing, a broken sound that makes his weapon hand shake.

_He's a child. Professor is a child. He wasn't even able to join his father._

For the second time in his accursed life, Dimitri sees his Professor crying.

_We've been seeking a child to end an adults' war._

**Author's Note:**

> This is the type of idea I get from pondering over magical stasis like the one from Breath of the Wild.
> 
> Coincidentally, Byleth's eyes post-merging are almost exactly the same as Paris Green, a color mostly lost to time, that is also known as emerald green. His original eye color is just a touch more purple-ish and a tad lighter than dusk blue. Took a while to source the color. 
> 
> Byleth's canonical age is 20-21 in the first phase. So what I think makes this work is that the siege and fall of Garreg Mach occurs just before his birthday, leaving him 19 :)
> 
> As roisale puts beautifully on tumblr and twitter in this art: https://twitter.com/roisale/status/1140839734270410752?s=20 — Byleth is only a "marginally larger child."
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please, feel free to leave a comment if you've got something to say :>


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